


Blue Clues

by conn_tinuity



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Also! It's Never Said But Connor Is Autistic, Crack Fic Except It's Not, Endgame RK1K Because I Was Told To Live My Dreams, Father-Son Relationship, Gavin Reed Choke Challenge I Guess, Gen, HAVE A LOVELY DAY, Height Puns In The Chat, I'm Sure I Wouldn't Know, Insert Shia Labeouf Just Do It Speech, OOC? Perhaps, Pocket Connor, Protective Hank Anderson, Tiny Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conn_tinuity/pseuds/conn_tinuity
Summary: Connor is small and Hank is annoyed. Hank is big and Connor is also annoyed. Together they make one hell of a weird fucking team.-Jeffrey calls Hank in to his office one day with a message that is honestly quite insane.“What the fuck?” Hank asks.Jeffrey smirks slightly at the look of disbelief on the Lieutenant’s face.“Hank, meet RK800 – S. It will be serving as your new partner.”RK800 – S gives Hank a small wave.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 22
Kudos: 113





	Blue Clues

**Author's Note:**

> I use the word 'gesture' and its variations a lot because I am a weak BITCH. Take a shot every time Connor is referred to as small, tiny or little.

Jeffrey calls Hank in to his office one day with a message that is honestly quite insane.

“What the fuck?” Hank asks.

Jeffrey smirks slightly at the look of disbelief on the Lieutenant’s face.

“Hank, meet RK800 – S. It will be serving as your new partner.”

RK800 – S gives Hank a small wave.

“You can’t be serious Jeffrey; you know I hate androids. And a frickin’ doll? Seriously?”

RK800 – S looks back at Jeffrey, seemingly anxious. The Captain shrugs, offering it a wry, apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Hank. It was originally going to be passed around by the officers, but CyberLife said they wanted to give it to you instead.”

“Well that’s a pretty stupid idea,” Hank snorts.

On the desk between the two grown humans, ignored by both of them, RK800 – S hunches its shoulders.

“I almost said as much when the employees from CyberLife dropped it off,” Jeffrey says, gesturing in frustration. “They had contacted me earlier about sending over a prototype detective android to assist in investigations for a trial period, they only failed to mention it would be this… small.”

RK800 – S glances up. It straightens its posture, surprised at hearing the purpose for its model being said out loud. It smiles nervously, adjusting its jacket and tie, beams a little, proud. A shadow of doubt passes over its face as the Captain voices his concern over its unfortunate size, but it forcefully steadies itself and the look is gone in an instant.

Neither human notices.

Hank runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay, so what? I’m supposed to baby this thing until CyberLife decides they want it back? I don’t exactly see how a glorified doll is going to help me put away criminals, Jeffrey.”

Jeffrey nods in acknowledgement.

“It will just be on desk work, for now. Helping you file your paperwork and shit, and God knows you need that,” he says, chuckling as Hank mockingly flips him off. “It should be able to help with developing leads too. Apparently it’s the smartest android CyberLife has made to date,”

RK800 – S perks up again and damn near preens.

The little android steps forward.

Hank glances down at it, eyebrows raised.

The android clasps its hands behind its back and actually bows slightly.

“Lieutenant Anderson, it’s nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”

Its voice is nothing like Hank had expected. Its not squeaky at all, instead sounding exactly like a grown, life-sized man’s. It is, however, very light and airy. Strange, and as Hank stares at the android’s thumbnail sized face, goofy.

RK800 – S waits patiently for a reply, and Hank realises he’s been staring with his mouth open. He shuts it with a click and mentally slaps himself.

“Uh, no problem.”

Unthinkingly, he extends a hand for the android to shake. RK800 – S doesn’t even blink as it grasps Hank’s pointer finger in both hands and makes the cutest, earnest attempt at shaking hands.

It's adorable. Hank is so screwed. He looks to Jeffrey for help, but his Captain is just shaking with silent laughter in his seat.

“Traitor,” Hank mutters as he scoops the android into his hands and walks back to his desk.

* * *

Hank roughly deposits the android on his desk. He stares at it with undisguised distaste as it stumbles back and nearly falls over. It looks up at him in what can’t be disguised as anything other than pure fear.

Its all too real, Hank thinks, and he sighs, murmuring a soft apology.

“It’s okay,” RK800 – S says hurriedly. It straightens out its jacket and tie again. “I understand some people are not comfortable around androids. I apologise if my presence upsets you.”

Hank waves the apology away as he sits down, and the android falls silent. Hank regards it wearily.

“Just how long am I stuck with you then?”

RK800 – S clasps its hands behind its back with a benign shrug. It leans sideways onto Hank’s coffee mug, the top of its head barely skimming the brim of the stained ceramic. It exhales heavily through its nose, seemingly sighing in, what, frustration? Sadness?

“I can’t say for certain. CyberLife determines the length of my stay here at the DPD based on my effectiveness. The more beneficial I am to your work, the sooner they’ll recall me to begin assembling the life-size model. When that happens, I will be deactivated. The RK800 – L will be capable of field work. I, on the other hand, am not.”

The little robot scuffs its dress shoes on the desk and wrinkles its nose, the tiny curl of brown hair falling across its face. It's every bit the comical image, but the android looks unmistakably upset. Perhaps contemplating its eventual uselessness, being labelled obsolete. Troubled by the concept of what passed for android death.

“Shit, kid. That’s awful.”

RK800 – S doesn’t answer. It continues to look at its feet, shoulders hunched defensively, face pensive.

By law, such behaviour should be deemed incriminating, but Hank isn’t entirely concerned with how robotic or not the bundle of bolts is, not when it isn’t even tall enough to reach the span of his flat open hand on the very tips of its toes. Not when it looks so sad.

Hank kneads the bridge of his nose. He wishes he had gotten drunk last night; wishes he would wake up and discover this was all just a messed-up dream.

He doesn’t wake up, so he leans forward, focusing on the miserable little android in front of him.

“So, you’re saying, unless I give you five stars or something, you’re going to be bothering me for all eternity, is that it?”

It’s a poor attempt at lightening the mood, and probably insensitive, but it does get RK800 – S to pause momentarily in its brooding.

RK800 – S frowns.

“That’s… a gross exaggeration, but yes. I have been directed to make my own reports to CyberLife, but your word holds just as much weight as mine.”

Hank smiles softly.

“In that case, I’ll just have to convince them to let you stay.”

RK800 – S tilts its head in confusion.

“Lieutenant?”

Hank waves the title away.

“Call me Hank, kid. Feels weird hearing an action figure call me Lieutenant. That reminds me though, I never heard your name.”

RK800 – S shifts on its feet.

“My model is RK800…”

Hank shakes his head in exasperation.

“I know that. I meant your actual name, the one given to you. The name you would use if you were human. Androids have actual names, don’t they?”

The android’s eyes widen with understanding and something else. Relief? Happiness?

“My designated name is Connor.”

Hank nods, smiling warmly.

“Nice to meet you, Connor. Here’s hoping to long, beneficial partnership.”

Connor’s cheeks tinge blue with embarrassment and gratitude as it hastily looks down at its feet.

“Thank you, Lieu – Hank. But you needn’t concern yourself with me. I’m just a machine. When it is time for me to be replaced I will go peacefully and without complaint. Please don’t endanger your career on my account.”

Connor glances up at Hank with plastic, resolute brown eyes.

The Lieutenant sighs.

“Time to get to work, then.”

* * *

“Do you have a dog, Hank?” Connor asks about ten minutes in to looking over old unsolved cases.

Hank spares him a suspicious look.

“How’d you know that?”

“The dog hairs on your chair,” Connor says simply. “I like dogs. What’s your dog’s name?”

Hank stares down at the bizarre little android.

“What’s it to ya?”

Connor looks down, expression contrite.

Hank sighs.

“Sumo. I call him Sumo.”

Connor looks back up and smiles.

Hank can’t help smiling back.

What a weird little android.

* * *

“The fuck? What are you doing with a miniature plastic pet, Anderson?”

Hank rolls his eyes.

“Good afternoon to you too, Reed. Now fuck off so at least one of us can get their work done.”

Reed doesn’t move. He doesn’t even make a quick remark about Hank’s poor work habits. He’s too caught up ogling down at Connor.

The little android is sitting next to Hank’s terminal, one skinless hand connecting to the tablet the Lieutenant had given it to work with. It looks up, startled, when Reed pokes it non too gently with a finger.

“Hey, watch it!” Hank snaps, surprising himself with the sudden protectiveness. It has to be because Connor’s so small and fragile, he reasons. Reed could break the thing all too easily with one little push, and Hank doesn’t like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment. Wouldn’t be too good if CyberLife’s state of the art android was destroyed on the very first day at the DPD.

“Can I help you, Detective Reed?” Connor asks politely.

Reed smirks, letting out a low whistle.

“Wow. That’s fucking creepy, man. Like a fucking haunted doll.”

“I’m… sorry?” Connor offers helplessly.

Reed ignores it. Instead, he turns to Hank.

“So, when do the rest of us get a turn? I don’t know about you, old man, but I’d love to have a miniature assistant. I can actually think of some useful things for it to do, not whatever you’re making it do, if you catch my drift.”

Connor looks to Hank in alarm.

Hank feels his anger rising.

“He’s not working for anyone other than me. Now fuck off, Reed, or I’ll tell Fowler you’re planning on using CyberLife’s _on loan_ state of the art android inappropriately.”

Reed shrugs with a crude laugh.

“Whatever, old man. Enjoy your time with it.”

Reed leaves, and Connor deflates, tension leaving his shoulders.

Hank can’t help but stare. When did Connor become a _he?_ It's barely been over an hour.

“Thank you, Lieu – Hank,” Connor shakily says again, and Hank snaps back to reality.

“No problem, kid.”

He can’t help following Reed’s trail back to the break room. The younger detective is unfortunately known for being sadistic towards androids.

“Say, Connor. What are you going to do when I go home tonight?”

“I will stay here at your desk and charge overnight.” He tilts his head. “Why do you ask?”

Hank watches Reed animatedly talk to Officer Chen over coffee. He still isn’t at all sure how the outgoing woman can stand the bully.

“Why don’t you come with me to my place tonight? It’d be nicer than staying here.”

Connor’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Are you sure? If I stay with you, I technically wouldn’t be breaching protocol as long as I do not enter any crime scenes, though I don’t want to intrude on your personal space any more than necessary.”

Hank waves him away.

“Don’t worry about it kid, you wouldn’t trouble me at all. Its not like you can take up much of my personal space anyway.”

Connor’s ridiculously small LED cycles yellow.

“Oh. Was that a joke at my expense, Hank?”

Hank swivels in his chair. He glares at his terminal with faux focus.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Connor pouts. Sticks his lip out like a child and actually fucking pouts. How the fuck is he just a machine? Hank has never met an android like him.

“You’re making fun of me for being short.”

Hank types away at his report. He fights against the encroaching shit eating smile.

“You are. Aren’t you, Lieutenant Anderson? You’re belittling my unfortunate stature. Well, no. Perhaps its not me that’s unfortunate. Perhaps its you, for being so large and encumbersome. A giant, as you humans say.”

Hank snorts.

“Everyone is a giant to you. And I think my stature is just fine, thank you.”

Connor bows his head, the right side of his mouth quirking up a little.

“Whatever you say, Hank.”

Hank returns the smile in kind, shaking his head with a laugh.

What a goofy, strange little android.

* * *

“Hey Connor, can I see that for a sec?”

“Sure, Hank.”

A slight ruffling noise as the big man moves.

“…”

“…Hank?”

“Mmm? Oh, it’s fine, Con. I just…wow.”

A light tap on the back.

“Good work, kid.”

* * *

“So, how shall we do this, then?”

Connor gestures vaguely at the empty passenger seat.

Images of Connor flying into the windshield with a splat every time Hank has to make a sudden stop fills his mind and make him groan internally.

“Uh, no. No way.”

Hank removes Connor from his shoulder and holds him out in front, gazing down at him with a concerned frown.

“I’m not going to let you di – dirty my windshield like some bug just because you’re not big enough for a damned seatbelt.”

Connor’s puzzled expression twists into one of comical annoyance.

“Lieutenant, I assure you I am much sturdier than a _bug_. If you are not comfortable with placing me on the seat, then at least let me sit on the dashboard.”

The violent images in Hank’s mind turn into something more nonsensical as he imagines Connor swaying next to the broken Hawaiian doll that he’s refused to move since the crash. The last part sobers him. He shakes his head with a weary sigh.

“Nah. I’d prefer not to take any risks.”

Connor’s already calculating risks when Hank slides him into his breast pocket. He lets out an indignant squawk.

“Lieutenant!”

Hank chuckles as he settles into the driver’s seat. He can feel the miniature android rummaging around in the material, struggling to stand up. Heh. Pocket android indeed.

“Well, look at it this way, now at least you won’t go shoo fly every time I have to hit the brakes.”

“This is demeaning!”

Hank starts the car with a cheery whistle and pulls out of the precinct car park.

Connor grips the opening of the pocket with both hands, peeking out at his surroundings.

“You can be very cruel, Lieutenant.”

“Aww, don’t start sulking on me,” Hank snickers. “What, I can’t really be that bad, can I?” He places a hand to his heart, mock hurt.

Connor sniffs audibly and says nothing. A quick glance down at him reveals no tears, just a pissed off, salty miniature android.

They’re almost at Hank’s place when Connor slides down to the bottom of the pocket with a groan. Hank nearly has a heart attack until he sees that Connor hasn’t deactivated or anything, but is just curled up with his hands covering his face.

It doesn’t do much to slow his racing heart, and as soon as he’s pulled into the driveway, he’s carefully pulling Connor out of his pocket and lifting him up to eye level.

“Connor? Speak to me kid, are you okay?”

Connor groans again. A shudder runs through his whole body and he lurches forward, hands flying away from his face as he suddenly retches, bright blue liquid spilling onto Hank’s palms as his tiny body convulses.

“Shit! What the fuck?!” Hank exclaims. He nearly drops Connor out of sheer fright, and he quickly deposits the android on the dashboard.

Connor throws up another mouthful of the bright blue stuff, and another, and another, before the surge finally stops. He curls in on himself, shivering.

“Sorry, Hank,” Connor croaks miserably. “My gyroscope was disrupted and my Thirium pressure rose too high due to the excessive rough movement. I should be okay from now on as long as my systems are not disturbed beyond optimal levels again.”

Hank splutters.

“Your gyroscope – what? Thirium? One of the ingredients for red ice… that’s your blood, right?” Hank asks, and Connor nods wearily in affirmation.

Hank swears explosively. He runs his hands through his hair without thinking, and winces as he gets blue blood in his hair. Connor’s blood.

Admittedly, it’s not much, not even enough to fill a teaspoon, but for such a tiny guy, it would be so much more than it seems. Connor must be terrified.

“Well shit, kid. Is there any way I can, what, get you more of that stuff?”

Connor’s LED cycles yellow and he blinks furiously.

“There. I just ordered some from the nearest CyberLife store with the account assigned to me. It should arrive here soon via drone.”

Hank relaxes back into his seat.

“Oh, nice. Jesus Christ.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Holy shit, kid. You just scared the shit out of me. You sure you’re all right?”

Connor nods weakly.

“My Thirium supply is sub-optimal but not critical. As soon as I get to refill I’ll be back to functioning at 100% optimal levels.”

Hank closes his eyes in relief. He opens them a minute later, filled with remorse.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Connor. I never meant to hurt you like that.”

Connor shrugs with one shoulder.

“That’s okay, Hank. You didn’t know travelling in your pocket while driving would affect me like this. I didn’t either, at least not to this effect.”

Hank holds out a hand, and Connor crawls forward. He curls up in the Lieutenant’s palm.

“So… why were you affected so badly?”

Connor hums.

“I suspect it was the position. I couldn’t keep still in your pocket, and the constant movement of the car overbalanced my gyroscope and increased my Thirium pressure, or blood flow. In human terms, it effectively made me dizzy.”

Hank barks out a laugh.

“Dizzy? So what, you were just carsick?”

Connor gives him a small, wry smile.

“That’s putting it mildly. I think I’ll sit in the cup holder next time.”

Hank’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. His life is insane.

The beeping of the drone alerts them to the packages arrival, and Hank gingerly steps out of the car to go retrieve it.

Hank places Connor back onto his shoulder so he can pick up the package with one hand and unlock the door with the other.

“Your house is dirty,” is the first thing Connor says once the door opens.

“Thank you for that stunning observation, Connor,” Hank drawls.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

Connor wistfully looks over at the sleeping Sumo while Hank unwraps the package and sets about to rummaging in his drawers.

The dog is snoring peacefully. Connor wishes he were too, then cuts himself off with the reprimand that, as a machine, he shouldn’t want anything.

But could it really be so bad?

Hank pours Thirium onto a teaspoon. He puts the utmost care into making sure it doesn’t spill.

Satisfied, he holds the spoon out to Connor.

“Say ‘ah.’”

Connor looks at him incredulously.

Hank bites back a laugh.

“Here comes the aeroplane. Open up.”

“I’m not a child, Hank,” Connor says, eye twitching.

Hank sobers.

“I know, I know.”

Pleased, Connor leans forward, holding the other end of the teaspoon while he sips Thirium.

Hank snickers.

“Shut up,” Connor snaps.

Hank bites his lip, resisting the urge to grin as blood drips down Connor’s face. Its freaky, but also somehow hilarious at the same time.

“I hate you,” Connor whines, and Hank just completely fucking loses it.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't sleep writing this bitch. Can we get an f in the chat please.


End file.
